While at the Eco-Farm Conference last week, I picked up a copy of the brand-new Slow Food Guide to San Francisco.

Slow Food USA is an arm of the International Slow Food organization and is "dedicated to supporting and celebrating the food traditions of North America." This book highlights restaurants and food producers in the Bay Area who offer diverse foods or who otherwise contribute to the Slow Food movement by including sustainably grown or harvested ingredients. From the introduction by Eleanor Bertino, contributing editor:

Sustainably raised foods from local family farms have many benefits. First, they have delicious flavor. Next, the farms themselves provide a greenbelt for urban areas. And, most importantly, they promote individual and environmental health. To paraphrase Michael Pollan, when you purchase food, you are purchasing a landscape.

When I picked up this book and started skimming through it, the first thing I noticed was a snail icon next to some restaurants. This icon -- the Slow Food mascot -- is used to designate establishments "that go above and beyond in their support of the concepts of sustainability and biodiversity, from the producers they buy from through the foods they prepare and sell."

Restaurants that we all associate with this sustainability ethic are listed: Chez Panisse, Zuni Cafe, Pizzetta 211. And there are many restaurants that I wasn't aware of and am eager to explore: Burger Joint (Haight) which uses Niman Ranch beef for it's burgers, Casa Orinda (Orinda) which uses free-range, hormone free chicken and locally grown produce, and The Village Pub (Woodside) which has it's own 15-acre organic farm.

Whether you are looking for a restaurant that holds to particular ideals, or just looking for plain old good food, the Slow Food Guide to San Francisco provides apt descriptions in a book which highlights some of the best that the area has to offer. There are sections such as "Farmers' Markets", "Ice Cream, Chocolate & Confectionary" and "Groceries & Produce Markets" which take the reader beyond traditional restaurants and feature a good combination of old standards and new finds.

Most of my quibbles with the book are editorial rather than about the content. I found the neighborhood delineations to be off in some areas: Quince and Vivande Porta Via are both listed as being in "Japantown", Kiss and Bay Bread are "Pacific Heights" and Chez Nous is listed as "Fillmore". The difference is a few blocks, but the area listings lack consistency which can be frustrating - especially to a visitor. In the West Marin area of the book, the reader is advised to "See p. xxx." a couple of times -- showing that there was enough of a lack of editing that I would double-check a restaurant's address and hours before depending on this guide for specifics.

I found the content of the book and the restaurant reviews to mainly be engaging and fair. Many of the contributors are names that you may be familiar with: Meredith Brody, Bruce Cole, Kim Severson, and Jan Newberry are just a few of over 50 Bay Area writers who contributed to this book. Descriptions tend toward story-telling. For instance, I learned the history of Cowgirl Creamery, the number of jars of jam that June Taylor makes in a year -- all with her stovetop kettle (answer: 20,000), and how Zuni Cafe is like a long-term, monogamous relationship.

I would recommend The Slow Food Guide to San Francisco to Bay Area veterans and newbies alike, especially if you are interested in learning about Bay Area restaurants who use local and sustainably grown foods.

Remember in my last post, I told you that I'll always preamble with warning?

This time, the warning is: Do not read this if you have never wondered what Motion Lotion -- yeah, I mean that kind of Motion and that kind of Lotion -- tastes like.

But before we get to the lube groove, in the interest of those who confuse safe sex with fruit smoothies, let's consider the flavored condom, purchased as part of a "Flavor Savor Pack" for $15 from Good Vibes.

Paradise Strawberry: Artificial strawberry is never a good idea. Artificial strawberry a la latex is an even worse idea. But still, this is tolerable, sort of like a strawberry Starburst, but with far less charm.

Paradise Banana: Hands down revolting, chalky, and not even remotely banana-like, which you'd think someone could get right given the context.

Paradise Vanilla: Inoffensive but wilts in the face of two drawbacks: The flavor dissipates extremely quickly, and it comes in a rather alarming blue that seems to have no apparent connection to vanilla. I can only conclude that these were created for safe-sex conscious Smurfs who knew that the rest of the world didn't want them to propagate.

Lifetyles Mint: The flavor lasts, and the cooling sensation remains on the palate. Definitely spearmint flavored, which tastes good but is unfortunate because then the condom couldn't be paired with peppermint Altoids. Wait, is there a rule about that, sort of like Chardonnay+beef=private reservation in hell?

Bare with me a moment, I need to clear my palate with some jasmine tea...

...okay, now, for the bit you've all been waiting for, the Great Lube Taste-Off.

I tested two brands: Doc Johnson Motion Lotion, which is supposed to warm to the touch and heat when you blow on it and comes in a small sample size (probably about a little less than a tablespoon); and ID Juicy Lube, which my admittedly superficial research indicates is the world's top selling edible lubricant and comes in a larger sample packet (about two tablespoons, which in my humble opinion, would make for a very sticky bed).

First, a word on method: Several I tried on a baguette, but most I tried by popping open the tube and squeezing onto my tongue, cocking my head thoughtfully, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes to search for the write words, then putting my lube-sticky little fingers to the keyboard.

Strawberry Motion Lotion/Hot Strawberry Motion Lotion: Fairly good, with slight but not intolerable hint of Robitussen. Unfortunately I don't have any ice cream on hand, otherwise I would see if it would melt it.

Peach Juicy Lube: Very sweet and utterly nasty. Tastes like plastic. Reminds me of the smell of the butts of My Little Ponies.

Hot Cherry Motion Lotion: Now this was a surprise because I usually don't like artificial cherry in any incarnation. Unfortunate tinge of Robitussen, but a nice little chili spunk that ignites the tongue. My favorite snack food in Thailand is fresh fruit dipped in sugar and chilli, so why not?

Watermelon Juicy Lube: Who knew watermelon was so bitter? Also un peu de Mon Petit Poney.

Wild Cherry Juicy Lube: More Little Pony butts stampeding across my palate, which I do not appreciate.

Bubblegum Blast Juicy Lube: Who on earth is this marketed to? Twelve-year-olds? I can't even bring myself to taste it.

Ah, back to the Motion Lotion (ML). I feel safe.

Rasperry ML: Strangely not as good as Strawberry or Hot Cherry. In natural circumstances, I prefer raspberry over both strawberry and cherry, but apparently not in lubricant.

Passion Fruit ML/Hot Passion Fruit ML: All fruit, but not a hint of passion. Both versions taste of plastic.

Big Banana ML: The banana flavor is subtle, but discernable. But why "Big" Banana? I've never noticed a taste difference between large and small bananas, have you?

Good god, still have two more. Bay Area Bites is trying to kill me.

Lemon Lime ML: For the love of god! This tastes like cheap toilet bowl detergent, like the kind that made the bathroom in high school smell bad. Use this if you want to dump someone: How to lose a guy in one lick.

Coconut ML: Unfortunately, coconut, in this incarnation, is not strong enough to overcome the bitterness of the lube. Steer clear.

So, here I am, utterly nauseous left with a desk strewn with lube packets and lube on my keyboard, which in other circumstances and if I were a boy, would be incriminating.

But I hate leftovers...

And so I unveil the Berry Passion Slicker, which I am sure will soon be the rage at all the hip cocktail parties:

• one shot of vodka
• fresh passion-orange juice (straight orange juice will do, but that's less fun)
• 1.5 packets Strawberry Motion Lotion (reserve remaining half-packet for lip gloss).

If anyone deserves a drink right now, I do.

And when you see the Berry Passion Slicker on Desperate Housewives or at your next pre-orgy mixer, remember: You saw it here first.

What does an award-winning Italian chef make for his Christmas dinner at home? Why French consomme, of course!

When I left for cooking school almost 3 years ago, I sold most everything - car, furniture, etc. - and gave up/away what was left including my apartment so whenever I come back to visit, I stay with my good friends M & B. I used to work with M at a Huge Software Company down on the Peninsula and B is the award-winning chef/owner Bruno Quercini of Pane e Vino Trattoria on Union & Gough. Needless to say I eat very well when I come home.

My hands-down favorite dish at the restaurant is his smoked mozzarella, eggplant fusilli which has been described by critics as "...so good it will make you swoon..." or something to that effect. Either way, delicious. My favorite thing Bruno makes at home, and it's usually for Christmas dinner, is his Consomme Celestina al Tartufo or clarified broth (consomme) with herbed crepes (celestina) and truffles (tartufo). My task is to punch out the dots in the herb-truffle crepes with an apple corer. Like a 4 year old waiting for Santa, I look forward to this every year.

Consomme can intimidate even the most seasoned of chefs and I was both excited and apprehensive when it came time to make it in cooking school. To back up a bit, consomme is a crystal clear, sparkling broth from which all the impurities have been filtered out naturally. In French cuisine, there are 2 types of soups or potages (poe-TAZH): le potage clair (a clear soup) and le potage lie (lee-A, accent over the 'e'; a bound soup) and consomme is of course a potage clair. It can be made from any broth (chicken, beef, game) along with some of the traditional garnitures such as brunoise (broo-nwoz), celestine or profiterole.

Consomme Brunoise is consomme with vegetables cut into tiny dice. Brunoise is the name of the size and shape of the cut and in this case it is 1mm x 1mm x 1 mm. In school, we had small rulers and yes, we had to measure our cuts exactly. It was not beyond a chef to, with one swipe if his hand, dispense a pile of brunoised carrots directly to the garbage pail if they were not exact. Consomme Celestine has crepes with fine herbs cut into chiffonade or thin ribbons and Consomme aux Profiteroles has tiny pate a choux bobbing around.

They key to making a perfect consomme is in the raft which clarifies (filters) the broth until it is crystal clear and in never letting it boil. You don't want any rapid movement that will cloud the broth. It was this raft that most intimidated me but once I made it, I found it fascinating (the nerd in me) and made it as often as I could. It is called a raft because it floats at the top of the broth. Bare with me here...

Three essential ingredients for a successful raft are ground meat (can include turkey), egg whites (ratio of 3 egg whites for every liter of stock), and aromatic vegetables (carrots, celery, leeks, tomatoes) shredded in a food processor (or fine julienne, matchsticks, if cutting by hand). Combine thoroughly all these items and place in a large pot. Pour the hot (not boiling or it will cook the egg whites) broth over the meat mixture and quickly whisk to dispense the meat mixture evenly throughout the broth. Stirring constantly, bring the broth to a gentle simmer and immediately lower the heat. Stop stirring and let it cook for up to an hour. Don't stir it nor let it boil. A raft of the meat mixture will have formed at the top of the broth and it is key to not break up the raft.

As the raft is forming take a small ladle and gently form a small hole in the center. Slowly ladle the broth from the pot over the raft. The raft acts as a filter to remove the impurities and cloudiness from the broth. You can sprinkle herbs and peppercorns on the top of the raft to impart flavor to the broth. Continue ladling the broth over the raft for 45 minutes to an hour. Once it is done, gently ladle out the broth into a chinoise or strainer lined with cheesecloth. You should now have a crystal clear broth.

Serving this is a delight. Place a handful of crepe dots in the bottom of a bowl. Slowly ladle the hot consomme over the crepes. The aroma of the pure broth and the herbs and the truffles is intoxicating. No one spoke for a good fifteen minutes as we inhaling and then savored every spoonful.

Mangia Bene e Buon Natale.

Check, Please! Bay Area is KQED's new local series featuring regular people reviewing Bay Area restaurants.

Visit the Check, Please! Bay Area blog to experience the restaurants from Episode 7:

1) Mario's Bohemian Cigar Store Cafe: | restaurant information | reviews

2) Soi Four: | restaurant information | reviews | recipe

3) Jeanty at Jack's: | restaurant information | reviews | recipe

Please feel free to join the discussion by posting comments about the show and your reviews of the featured restaurants!

You can now watch all episodes online! Check out the new photo gallery to view behind-the-scenes shots.

I don't mean Dolls, and my title is also not a nod to that meta show on The O.C. (I've been Netflixing a lot of that these days. Don't look at me like that -- I love Adam Brody!), it's more about the fact that Hayes Street doesn't begin and end in Hayes "getting rather too posh for our britches" Valley. Weary of always looking for good eats and sips beyond my immediate neighborhood, I've decided to recommit myself -- at least for a little while -- to the my little community of Lower Haight/Western Addition/Alamo Square Park/Hayes Valley. The newest slash to hit my immediate consciousness is North of the Panhandle, often referred to as NOPA or NOPH. I've only discovered this rather ignored area because of a brand new hybrid bike and the intense need to work off a career spent eating, sleeping, and breathing food. Last week I wrote about a new bar in the Valley, but this week I write about Abacus, a Cali-Chinese restaurant in NOPA.

Clearly, there aren't nearly as many restaurants, cafes, bars, clubs, or burrito shacks around here as there are in other well-known foodie neighborhoods, but what we do have is not too shabby at all. In fact, I have discovered that NOPA's Abacus is the where you simply must go to taste the best sautéed pea shoots in San Francisco.

About a year ago, after a totally traumatic Tahoe trip, my husband and I soothed our tweaked nerves with a massive take-out feast from Ton Kiang in the Richmond. Among other delights, Ton Kiang always has a fresh vegetable of the day, and it was there that I first had sautéed pea shoots. I was so taken by them that I looked elsewhere for them. Enter Isa. Again, with the love for the shoot of a pea.

Seeking to satisfy a very recent craving, I grabbed a few containers of fresh pea shoots at my corner organic store and tried my hand at them. My husband told me that the few slivers of garlic that I threw in at the end of the quick saute made all the difference in the still emerald green shoots. According to his expert opinion as a professional eater, my pea shoots were better than Isa and Ton Kiang because they were more tender and flavorful. High praise indeed. Do you know why I trust my husband's opinion? Because he leaned over a plate of pea shoots at Abacus and said, "Even considering yours, these are the best yet."

Abacus has many fine dishes that are as delicately and perfectly prepared as their pea shoots. So I say, go for the pea shoots but stay for absolutely everything else. Neighborhood parking is ridiculously easy and the 21 Hayes stops right in front of the restaurant, so really, you have no excuse not to experience this golden NOPA nugget for yourself.

Abacus
2078 Hayes Street (at Cole)
San Francisco, CA 94102

415.387.2828

Chocolate Holidays Unforgettable Desserts for Every Season published by Artisan is the latest cookbook by the chocolate expert Alice Medrich. The book has over fifty recipes that feature chocolate in one form or another. The recipes are organized seasonally proving once and for all that chocolate is always in style.

The recipes are easy to make for the most part, and often very innovative. You can start the year with Chocolate Blini with Berry Caviar, make twiggy pretzel Chocolate Easter Baskets in the spring and Hot Waffle Ice Cream Sandwiches in the summer. But the recipes can really be used for any occasion or no occasion at all. While all the recipes use chocolate, some of them only use it as an accent, white chocolate glazed Apricot Orange Wedding Cakes are an example of this.

Chocolate Holidays is a revised edition of A Year in Chocolate, but includes an extended section on ingredients, equipment, decorative touches and a guide to choosing which chocolate to use, especially helpful now that we have more brands and higher percentage cocoa to work with.

Medrich suggests this decadent bread pudding for Thanksgiving but it is a perfect comfort food for winter nights. I had this at a friends house recently and it was a huge hit.

Chocolate Cranberry Bread Pudding
Serves 12-14

1 loaf (16 ounces) challah or brioche
8 tablespoons (1 stick) melted unsalted butter
2 cups fresh or dried cranberries
1 2/3 cups milk
1 cup heavy cream
Scant cup sugar
14 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
7 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Lightly sweetened whipped cream or creme fraiche (optional)

You can use any domestic bittersweet or semisweet chocolate without a percentage on the label, or any boutique or imported brand marked 50 to 62 percent. Or, substitute 10 ounces chocolate marked 66 to 72 percent and increase sugar by 2 tablespoons.

Position the rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Tear the loaf into large shreds, about 2 x 3/4 inches. To do this, pinch a piece of the bread at the top of the loaf and start pulling. If the loaf is sliced, tear the slices. Spread the shreds on a large baking sheet and bake until lightly toasted, about 5 minutes. Remove from the oven and immediately drizzle the melted butter over the bread. Toss lightly to distribute the butter. Cover the bottom of a buttered 13 x 9 inch glass or earthenware baking dish or two buttered 9-inch glass pie pans with half the bread. Sprinkle all the cranberries over the bread. Top with the remaining bread. Set aside.

In a heavy saucepan, heat the milk, cream, and sugar to a simmer. Off heat, add the chocolate and stir until melted and smooth. In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs and vanilla. Add the chocolate mixture to the eggs and stir until well blended. Pour the mixture over the bread, making sure the top layer of bread is completely moistened. Cove the pan loosely with a piece of foil.

Bake for 15 minutes. Remove the foil and bake 15 minutes more, or until the pudding bubbles vigorously around the edges although the center is still very liquid if the pan is jiggled. Remove the pudding from the oven (it will continue to thicken) and cool on a rack. Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold, plain, or with a dab of whipped cream or creme fraiche.

Tune in to KQED's weekly podcast, The Writers' Block to hear the Kitchen Sisters read selections from their book, Hidden Kitchens.
Stream Audio (18:17) [Requires the free RealPlayer.]
Download mp3 (18:17)

About Hidden Kitchens
Secret, underground, unexpected, unofficial, below the radar, hidden kitchens. Inspired by the popular and highly acclaimed NPR Morning Edition series, Hidden Kitchens: Stories, Recipes and More is a new book by The Kitchen Sisters (Davia Nelson & Nikki Silva) exploring the world of street corner cooking, kitchen rituals and visionaries, legendary meals and eating traditions -- a wild, poignant chronicle of American life through food.

Over a thousand listeners called the NPR Hidden Kitchens Hotline with intriguing messages and hot tips about underground kitchens at nuclear test sites, traveling circus kitchens, Burgoo picnics in Kentucky, ramp suppers in North Carolina, hippie kitchens, clam bakes, and more. Hidden Kitchens interweaves these calls with stories from the radio series. A midnight cabyard kitchen on the streets of San Francisco, makeshift kitchens crammed in the racing pits of NASCAR, a secret civil rights kitchen tucked away in a house in Montgomery, the Chili Queens of San Antonio, freighter food from the galleys of the Great Lakes, the most unexpected hidden kitchen of all, the George Foreman Grill. Hidden Kitchens journeys with The Kitchen Sisters as they travel the nation in search of unsung kitchen heroes, community cooking rituals, immersing the reader into an array of unusual and remarkable kitchen cultures.
Purchase Hidden Kitchens (at NPR.org).

About The Kitchen Sisters
The Kitchen Sisters (Davia Nelson & Nikki Silva) have been producing radio programs together since 1979. They are the creators, with Jay Allison, of two Peabody Award winning NPR series, Lost & Found Sound and The Sonic Memorial Project heard on NPR's All Things Considered and the James Beard Award nominated Morning Edition series Hidden Kitchens now in it's second season. Their work is recognized for its high production, originality and off beat sense of humor. They teach at the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism and lecture and provide training workshops around the country. In addition to producing radio, Davia Nelson is also a screenwriter and casting director. She lives in San Francisco. Nikki Silva is also a museum curator and exhibit consultant. She lives with her family on a commune in Santa Cruz, California.
Visit The Kitchen Sisters' web site (at kitchensisters.org).

The Writers'Block is a weekly podcast featuring writers of all stripes reading from their recent work. You can subscribe to this series via RSS or iTunes and receive each new podcast as soon as it is published.
Subscribe to RSS Feed
Subscribe in iTunes

With so many restaurants in San Francisco, it is typical to research a restaurant before visiting. Today, part two of a list of restaurant review sites on the Internet. For this project, I chose to focus on restaurant review sites that allow participation from the public, as opposed to straight-review sites such as the San Francisco Chronicle or Gayot.

Last week, I discussed eGullet, Mouthfuls, and Craigslist.

CHOWHOUND

The Chowhound website features bulletin boards across the nation broken out by area. San Francisco restaurants are discussed on a San Francisco Bay Area board. This is a very active user community that posts several hundred posts a day.

Pros: Chowhound users religiously seek out the hole-in-the-wall, underrated, unheard of restaurants. They have a vast amount of knowledge about the San Francisco food scene, and keep on top of restaurant openings and closings. When I first moved to San Francisco over five years ago, I used the Chowhound site to get my bearings in a town where the restaurant scene can often be intimidating.

Cons: To say that the Chowhound software is archaic is to be polite. It is bulky, ugly, and daunting for a new user to understand. Trying to search for something on this site? Don't bother. Your best bet is to post a question and lean on site users for help finding an old thread. Administration of this site is heavy-handed and often confusing. The site does not have a model for sustaining itself financially, so users are randomly called upon to give "good will" contributions under threat of the site ceasing to exist.

Participating in Chowhound involves constantly asking oneself if seeking out the excellent restaurants is worth dealing with the bad software, grumpy administrators, and guilt trips for not opening your wallet to give money to a site that is purposely remaining in the dark ages. Many people decide that it's for them, and many people decide that the hurdles are not worth the tips.

YELP

This San Francisco-centric site reviews everything from local tourist attractions to taco trucks. Yelp features reviews by users as well as sponsored listings. All reviews are based on a five-star rating system.

Pros: Hands down, this is my favorite software for browsing through reviews. It is easily searchable and user friendly. It's depth allows a user to see the location of a restaurant, click through to the restaurant's web site, make a reservation, and vet comments by viewing all reviews by a particular person. This is a highly active site.

Cons: The main population of this site seems to be 20-something San Franciscans ... not that there's anything wrong with that, right? Reading reviews on this site, I often feel like I am listening in on bar conversations in the Marina. Curious what they say about the Marina Safeway? "This safeway is the most amazing Safeway ever. It's huge and because it is not in a family oriented neighborhood is not crawling with little brats. Instead it's crawling with single girls stocking up on diet coke and guys stocking up on beer and frozen pizza."

Yelp is helpful for looking up a specific restaurant or checking out restaurants in a certain area. For asking specific questions (ie., "Where to go after the theatre?") or following up on news (ie., "How is Elite Cafe now that it re-opened?"), best to try Chowhound or eGullet.

CITYSEARCH

Citysearch is part of a large conglomeration of media sites run by InterActiveCorp. Like Yelp, this database driven site allows a user to easily search for a specific restaurant or find a restaurant by area.

Pros: Citysearch's active database of restaurants means that a user is usually getting up-to-date information. Sub-group listings allow a user to easily find restaurants based on cuisine or special attribute (late-night, dessert, etc.). Citysearch has paid staff that writes editorial reviews, giving in-depth information.

Cons: Reviews by the public are inconsistent. Some restaurants feature many reviews, while others of the same caliber only feature a few. The main purpose of this site is to make money through advertising, and at no time is it easy to forget this fact. Each page features many ads and sponsored listings, making it difficult sometimes to find what one is looking for through all of the advertising noise.

With a site such as Yelp now on the scene, Citysearch is no longer part of my restaurant finding ritual.

Looking at apartments lately has reminded me that my number one priority is a gas stove. Windows are nice, greenery is great, carpeting not dating before 1980 is helpful, but the kitchen? The kitchen has to be perfect. It has to feel like home. I have to be able to close my eyes and picture where hot pans will cool, how prominantly my fire engine red Kitchen-Aid can be displayed, and where my handsome set of original green glass Fireking dishes will live. A dorm room refrigerator will not do.

Kitchens are very important. I never tire of looking at them. In magazines or in movies or in real life.

Being a chef means that few people are brave enough to cook for me in their own kitchens. "I'm nice," I remind them. "I'm always hungry, I'm a fantastic carnivore, and I'll eat breakfast all day and night," I plead. If desperate, I can do an interpretive dance about how cooks just love other people to cook for them.

In other people's kitchens I give advice when it's asked for and I try really hard not to when it's not invited. (I'm trying harder all the time, I promise.) In the spirit of being a gentleman and a great, appreciative dinner guest, I will almost always bring a gift.

My mother always used to say when you're at someone's house and they ask you how you want your sandwich, tell them you want it the way they make it, or else you'll never learn how to make it differently.

I'm not of the mindset you need to have fancy gadgets or coffee table cookbooks or have taken a class or get paid to be a great cook. Millions of famous chefs are cooking in their homes all over the world. Maybe it's your mother, great aunt, brother in law's boyfriend, gardener, local firehouse chief. Maybe it's you.

Last year my good friend from the Texas/Lousiana border did the unthinkable. She shared her Boudin with a Yankee. Me. We walked to Popeye's for their amazing red beans and biscuits, and I ate a flavor combination I would have never had had I not been trusted enough in this woman's beautiful home.

In Berkeley recently I had tea with the visual artist and musician Polly Frizzell. It was in her aesthetically dynamic kitchen, alive with art and craft, I was first introduced to Keemun, a tea with the dark aroma and flavors of pine and chocolate. I brought Bakesale Betty's lamingtons, little cake sandwiches with raspberry jam in the center, dipped in chocolate and whimsically rolled in coconut. Before I left she bravely gave me a jar of her first ever try at marmalade. Contingent of course on the fact that I would give feedback and advice for the next batch.

Long ago a short-order cook, I always have a nice time watching my friend A. prep the late afternoon lunches he makes for us. His communal house kitchen is a city of interesting things to look at and read. Once he utilized the working griddle of their behemoth Wedgewood and made us hash browns! Another time a bright and seasonal frittata in one very large deep black cast iron skillet was assembled with produce from Terra Firma's Box.

My talented friend V. always pleases me. Since dating and moving in with her vegetarian partner P. they have hosted more than a few food themed parties I would call in sick to work for. A brunch party with all the fixings including more than one June Taylor jam, (and a multi-pans crepe lesson by me in record breaking heat), a Middle Eastern dip extravaganza where my all time favorite Muhammara played a starring role, and most recently a sushi party where we all got sticky rice hands making our own rolls. Fresh shiso shared the table with radish sprouts, tender shrimp and deeply red tuna.

Because eating in home kitchens are where we develop taste memories, cooking and baking for friends, family and lovers is an important act. Whether it's tea and toast or a four course meal, the kitchen is the heart of these intimate acts.

Wednesday's food section of the New York Times presented a stunning photograph: the wooded hills of northern Sonoma County. But Eric Asimov's story, titled "Making Wine in a Hostile Climate on Sonoma's Coast," wasn't about those woods, it was about the acres of vineyards that would displace those woods.

And the "hostile climate" wasn't so much the delicate ecosystem that would be (or has been) destroyed by those vineyards. The "common sense" that Asimov claims these winegrowers are disobeying referred to the fog, rain, and isolation of this remote area.

It was a surprisingly myopic story. The wineries mentioned in the story -- cultish small producers like Flowers and Peter Michael, and huge operations like Kendall-Jackson -- have clearcut hundreds of acres and lopped off entire hilltops in order to tame the ridges inland from the coast in Cazadero and Annapolis and plant their highly regarded pinot noirs.

Far be it from me to begrudge anyone their wine. But responsible reporting requires that the story be fully told. When Asimov wrote "[w]hile the soils and climates offer the prospect for greatness, they also hold the potential for disaster," I assumed he meant environmental disaster. But he goes on to explain that "disaster" refers to the growers' low yield.

And the specter of pesky regulations are brushed off summarily. Mike Benziger, general partner of Benziger Family Winery, explains that they only planted 10 of their 24 acres because of the high price -- due "partly to regulatory issues that make it difficult to plant a new vineyard without lawyers and hearings, and partly to the region's seclusion... ," says Asimov.

Area residents, some of whom have been vocal in their opposition to the pillaging of the land, are referred to disdainfully as kooky hermit types: "Adding to the challenge is opposition from longtime residents, who feel that vineyards and winemakers threaten the distance they have tried so hard to put between themselves and society."

Sonoma County is raging a heated battle over woodland conversion. A compromise measure that would require landowners to plant two acres of trees for every one acre cut down is currently being decided. The Redwood Chapter of the Sierra Club calls the two-for-one deal unrooted in science -- they would rather prohibit conversions altogether.

This article describes some of the dangers inherent in the pursuit of the perfect grape.

Asimov's piece calls regulations like these "a serious obstacle to winemakers." Which, of course, they are -- for a reason. The other side of the story deserved a little more attention.